


A Long Night

by glitterbb



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Fire Night, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterbb/pseuds/glitterbb
Summary: Oliver arrives back at 303 after a long night dealing with the fire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an idea for Fire Night on Tumblr.

Oliver dragged his feet as he climbed the stairs, fumbling clumsily in his pocket for his keys. It had been a long night. A long, confusing night, and he felt like this wasn’t the end of it. He had no idea how he was going to sleep, his mind buzzing with thoughts and worries, none of which seemed to be settling. He waited for a phonecall. A message. Anything to give him an update on Laurel, or so he kept telling himself. 

It was Connor. It had to be Connor, and the thought he might never see the younger man again was terrifying to him. His mind swam with thoughts. Did he suffer? Was he aware what was going on? Did he think about him? 

Oliver’s mind ran away with him. So many missed opportunities, lost moments, words left unsaid. He’d have to speak to Connor’s mother, and Gemma, and oh god, his niece and nephew. He’d only met them all once and he was sure Connor would have passed on their current relationship status but it felt like his duty to see them. It’s what Connor would have wanted. 

His heart wrenched as the thoughts flooded his head, each more depressing than the last, how much he’d give to take back the last few months. How much he wished he’d never made that choice, he ached to touch Connor one more time, feel his lips on his, tell him how special he made him feel. 

Oliver felt overcome with guilt and remorse, his heart felt heavy in his chest as he stumbled round the corner, stopping dead as his eyes fell on the figure hunched in the doorway to 303. His breath caught in his throat as hope surged through his veins. He knew that figure, that shaggy mop of unruly hair, that navy blue duffel coat…

“Connor?” He whispered, his heart leaping as he rushed forwards towards the slumped figure. “Connor!” He yelped again, bending down to shake the other man out of his stupor. His quite clearly drunken stupor. The smell of bourbon lingered in the air as the man looked up through bleary eyes, his unruly fringe falling in his face. 

“Ollie?” Connor’s voice croaked, his lips splitting into a grin as he realised the identity of the person beside him. “You been out boning Thomas?” He chuckled with a slur. “Find out if he’s bigger than me yet?” He added with an exaggerated wink.

“I thought you were dead.” Oliver hissed, rising to his feet and pulling his keys out from his pocket. “Just get in here!” He snapped, pushing the door open and stepping over Connor, who turned and crawled over the threshold like it was all he could manage. 

_I’ve got Connor. He’s been waiting at mine._

Oliver tapped out the text and sent it to Michaela as he watched his former lover struggle up to his feet. 

**Is he okay?!**

Michaela replied almost immediately. Oliver looked the other man up and down, sighing at his inebriated state. 

_He’s alive_

He tapped back, dropping his phone down on the kitchen counter. 

“Why you being so dramatic, Ollie?” Connor smirked, ambling towards the couch and dropping down on it heavily. “I only went for a few drinks.”

“Annalise’s house burnt down.” Oliver exploded, towering over the other man. “Somebody is dead and Laurel might not make it through the night.” He snapped angrily. “I thought it was you, we ALL thought it was you, but instead you turn up here drunk out of your skull like it’s no big deal. Do you have ANY idea how worried we’ve all been?” He rambled angrily, his pent up fear tumbling from his lips and showering down on a confused looking Connor.

“Wait, what?” Connor mumbled, looking more lost and confused than Oliver had ever seen him before. “I was just there a few hours ago. Laurel was fine…”

“Did you do this?” Oliver whispered unsurely. “Is that why you’ve been drinking?” 

“No!” Connor hissed back. “Jesus Christ, you really think I’m capable of that?” He began to sober up quickly. Oliver stared at him, the man he’d once loved - still loved - visibly clamming up as he came to terms with the news he’d just recieved. “Who’s dead?” He mumbled, slowly pacing back and forth, clearly agitated. Oliver slowly unbuttoned his jacket, sliding it off and throwing it over the arm of the couch. He grabbed the remote, flicking the TV on, the colour draining from Connor’s face as he watched the news flash across the screen. 

“I think it might be Frank.” Oliver stuttered, “Possibly Wes. They’re the only two people unaccounted for.” He explained, wetting his lips. He took a deep breath. He hated this uncertainty lingering in his heart. “Where have you been, Connor?” He asked calmly. 

The younger man’s head whipped round, tearing his eyes from the screen. He swallowed heavily, looking down at his feet meekly, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

“I need to tell you the truth.” He whispered, looking like the weight of the world was suddenly on his shoulders once more. 

“Now’s not really the time…” Oliver countered, turning to move away, Connor’s hand clamping onto his forearm.

“No it is!” Connor insisted, eyes wild and insistent. “You’re going to hear some things and I need you to hear it from me first.” He muttered, suddenly pulling his hand back and wrapping it around himself tightly. Oliver studied his eyes. The hurt, the fear, the abject terror dancing in his blown pupils. 

“I don’t understand?” Oliver’s voice quivered. He’d waited so long for this but right now, after this night, he suddenly wasn’t so keen to have the truth laid out for him. Connor placed his hands on Oliver’s arms, guiding him down onto the couch, crouching down to his level, their faces mere centimeters apart. 

“I lied because I thought I was protecting you… protecting what we had.” He whispered. “But now I’ve already lost you, and if coming clean is the only chance I have at saving us… then I guess I have nothing left to lose. It’s a risk I have to take.” He breathed, each breath ragged and uneven. 

“Connor… you don’t have to…” Oliver started to plead but the younger man shook his head, straightening up, fear evident in his tearful eyes. 

“I do.” He whispered with a resigned nod. “I need to end this now….”


End file.
